The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1)(47)

All that mattered for now was the fact that I was awake.





23





GRAY





Her arm hung limply from her body, as if it exhausted her too much to maintain her position and continue holding her ribs. I had a feeling one was broken, and I knew I had yet another fight on my hands. Given what I’d already done with the little bit of power I held over her from my blood in her body, the likelihood of Willow willingly accepting more of it would be slim.

She’d do it anyway, even if I had to pry her mouth open while she slept.

The scent of her blood appealed to me, but in the face of the pain that consumed her, I couldn’t push past my rage that Susannah had harmed her long enough to think of my own hunger or desire.

One of the other Vessels moved in front of us, racing to the door to my chambers. He pulled it open, closing it behind us as I stepped into my office. I bypassed my desk and the couch, going straight for my bed.

One of the housekeepers had already been here, making my bed after I’d stepped out for the funeral service. I’d tried to keep my eye on Willow after the Grays had finished using their magic to bury the casket, but she’d slipped out the moment I let her out of my sight.

The witchling had more bravery in her pinky finger than most had in their entire body, going after the Covenant like that.

I sighed as I lowered her to the bed, dread filling me when her head lolled to the side slowly.

“Willow,” I said, grasping her cheeks in my hand. I tapped my finger against her high cheekbone, waiting for her to respond. “What hurts?”

She lifted a hand, grimacing as she fought to push her blazer out of the way. I pulled her to sit, scowling when she gasped in pain. The twist to her face set everything in me on fire, making warmth fill my veins for the first time in centuries.

I’d already hated the Covenant with a passion from Hell.

Now I’d make sure that when Susannah died, it would happen very, very slowly.

I helped Willow out of the blazer, then tossed it to the side and lowered her back to the mattress. She didn’t even protest the fact that I’d brought her to my own bed, laying her in my space when I could have brought her to her own room. It would have been easier in the end. Her bed was far closer to the Tribunal rooms than mine, but I needed her in my bed for this. Needed her in my space where I could keep an eye on her while she recovered.

She touched her shirt, tugging at the fabric to pull it free from the high waist of her skirt. I helped, frenzied hands tearing it free and pulling until the buttons popped down the center. They flung through the air, and she didn’t fight when it revealed the black lace of her bra.

There would be little point, given I’d seen it all the night before. Touched it.

I shoved the fabric to the side, running my hand over the bruise slowly forming on her side.

“Don’t touch it!” she screamed, swatting my hand away frantically. “I just need dirt. You should have brought me to the courtyard.”

“What are you planning to do? Eat it? Your injury is internal, Witchling,” I snapped, leaning forward to touch my lips to the swelling gently.

Willow stilled, staring down at me as I rose and brought my wrist to my mouth. I sank my fangs into it, holding it out for her as she stared at it. Indecision warred on her face, leaving no doubt that she was genuinely in pain.

I suspected she’d dislocated or broken a rib, and she knew very well how long that would take to heal otherwise.

“I already own you, Witchling. You might as well benefit from that,” I said, smirking down at her as her gaze hardened into a glare. If she didn’t take my blood, my compulsion would eventually work its way out of her system.

But then she’d be in pain.

She reached up with a grimace, wrapping her delicate, slender fingers around my forearm and hand. Dragging it toward her, she drew in a few deep breaths as she stared at the blood welling from the wound.

“Drink, Willow. I may be an asshole, and I will most definitely take advantage of you,” I said, chuckling when her gaze snapped back to mine. “But you’re safe with me. That’s more than I can say of your own kind.”

She swallowed, nodding softly as she lowered my wrist to her mouth. The heat of her wrapped around my skin, flooding my veins as she took a deep pull. I felt my blood leave my body; felt it slide into her mouth and felt her swallow it down.

Her grip tightened, pulling me to her more harshly as I tossed my head back with a groan. She drank deep, taking more than she needed. I doubted it was an accident.

The Witchling was smart enough to know that the more of my blood she drank, the stronger she would be. I had the distinct feeling that the one thing Willow never wanted to be was weak. She would never allow herself to be vulnerable, and while she had to accept she would be with me now, she could go to war with others and not worry as much.

If she was going to give some of her power, she’d damn well take some of mine back.

“Clever little witch,” I murmured with a laugh as she sank her little teeth into my skin surrounding the wounds. She ran her tongue over them, encouraging them to continue bleeding as she let her eyes drift closed.

Her body shifted, her rib moving beneath her skin as it snapped back into place. She let out a high-pitched whimper, continuing to drink from me through the moment of pain. With her body healed, I knew what would come next.